Far Harbor
by tankgirly
Summary: Riley Pascal, the Sole Survivor out of Vault 111, went to a remote island out of the Commonwealth to investigate a case her friend Nick Valentine had been working on. What she did not expect was what she found there. No, it wasn't just about the creatures, or the missing girl. It was much, much more.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First fanfic, other than the old KOTOR fanfic I have been trying post, is the first new fanfic I have written in years. I am only too happy my writing bug is once again back in business.**

 **Also this will be the first non-BioWare fanfic I have ever written.**

 **Another issue is because a lot of people I know have not finish this downloadable content, I could not find anyone to Beta my work. Apology in advance if some of them seem a little odd for you.**

 **James O'Malley exclusively belong to me. All the rest belong to Bethesda.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

1

The sound of foghorn echoed through the fog.

One could hardly see anything beyond the end of the pier, occupied only one boat. The water quietly splashed against the Radbarnacle infested wood. Fire in the brazier hissed softly in the chilling air.

It was resonated with the Fog Condensers, erecting just outside the Hull around the small harbor township. At the distance, once lively forest rustled in the night wind. All was quiet and calm and appeared to be rather peaceful.

Except it was never peaceful.

Hell no, a night like this would never be peaceful.

It was another one of the deadly nightmares.

Standing on the top of the Hull walkway, James O'Malley looked over the small harbor nestled at the east side of the Island. His striking profile was evident in the dim light. Just like most of the fellow Harborman, he appeared to be tall and bulky, with a raggedy beard covered majority of his jaw. His long hair was pulled up and roughly tied into a bum on the top of his head, revealing his sharp cheekbones. Garbed in thick coat made of Radstag and Gulper hide, the only prominent part of him would be his piercing blue eyes. His calloused hands, hidden mostly under the worn fingerless gloves, were holding a Lever-action rifle, slightly modified to suit his personal taste and purpose. His stance was tense, just like everyone else, regardless of whether they were on guarding duty each night.

"Avery. Not sure why she reckons there is a need to still sound that thing." Snort sounded from his side, grumpy and hoarse. Without even turning his head, he knew procisely who the person was. They had fought side by side since retreating to this forsaken place, the last piece of land that was still free of being tainted by the Fog, for so long that any of them were able to tell who the person was by voice only. Allen Lee, another residence, the owner of the local gunshop and the unofficial co-leader of the militia who protected the town. Sporting a beanie hat in the shade between deep forest green and grey, the man trained his eyes on the rippling waters beneath them as he carried out his chatter.

"Well, we still have visitors coming." Remarked James casually. It was almost a common knowledge the disaggreement between him and their leader and like most of the rest he did not really wish to pick side.

"Mainlanders?" Another snort: "They can swim here for all I care. Why do we even bother to make their life easier when they don't even care if we are alive or dead?"

"Well..."

"I do not give a Mole Rat's arse if they have a smooth journey here or not," Allen continued to grumble: "...Wasting our precious power to generate that thing. Madness. Total Madness."

James shifted his weight from one boot feet to another, unsure if he should say anything. In truth, he personally thought the visit from the Mainland is crucial, not just to keep everyone in Far Harbor

alive, but also raise the possibility to get them out of the current situation with the others on the

island. But he knew the merchant hated such a notion and would chew his ears off for even have such a thought. At the end he thought it was best to keep them to himself, and pray things would come out the way he had hoped sometimes in the future with no more residence of this place dying.

"That and the whole Children of Atom thing-" The older Harborman was on a roll and was about to launch more of his complain speech when he was interrupted by the stern female voice below: "Lee!"

Both men looked down from their high walkway and on the old and short woman stood at the cracked cobblestone below. Back straight, Captain Avery had a full head of short silvery hair a look of worry on her weathered face. Her auburn eyes were bright. Her clothing was just the same as a few Far Harbor townsfolk. Yet somehow the air of leadership made her stand out. James heard Allen cursed under his breath and answered to her call. Apparently there was someone coming, a rarity considering their last visitor was only here a little over a week ago. The two Harbormen exchanged a wordless amused look before the merchant decided to go down and joined their leader to welcome the newcomer.

That left only him and on other Harborman guarding the gate. Knowing he must kept his attention vigilant while the rest of the townsfolk's attentions were at the dock to see the visitor, he did not dare to turn to look at the arrival. Soon he heard the sound of engine approaching through the murkiness of thick fog, then it was the sound of Captain Avery talking. A female's voice replied her greeting, and Allen's. There was also a male's voice that sounded a lot like one of those voices spoken through a speaker or a radio. A Synth? Really? So openly in the public? Frowning to his scope, he shook his head to himself before something moving in the rolling white mist beyond the Fog Condensers.

Shifting shadows, but bulky mass. Hair on the back of his head stood up. Hell had sent their minons.

" _THEY ARE COMING_!" He growled out as loud as he could.

X X X

It all happened at the blink of an eye. One minute Riley Pascal and Nick Valentine were standing by the dockside, in the middle of what could be the thickest fog she had encountered in her lifetime (both before and after the Vault 111), trying to unravel as much as they could about this case they had been working on, the case about the disappearance of a young girl named Kasumi, next minute a yelp from the shadows of the buildings behind the pier, bolted through the mist, send everyone into some form of panic frenzy. Both Captain Avery the local leader, and Allen Lee, who she assumed was some kind of representative, looked positively pale and alarm after hearing that warning shout. There were even a hint of fear on their faces, which she had no doubt could be seen on everyone else's', should she took a quick trip about the town to have a giddy look. It wasn't all that unusual to her-she had seen that same looks on the settlers' faces when their settlements were under attack. The problem was what was coming.

Almost without thinking, the blonde reached for the modified hunting rifle, Reba II, on her back. Beside her, right on cue, the Synth detective did the same, drawing out weapon from his long coat. The two of them followed the local leader up several flight of stairs , one long stretch of wooden walkway built along the top of the high wall surrounding the seaside township, and found themselves overlooking the small square right outside the main gate. At the edge of the square, makeshift lampposts emitted in a ghastly and eerie blue light stood erect. She noticed they were placed there for strategic reason more than lighting purposes. For the fog seemed to be stopped just beyond those lights' beam and unable to move forward.

"...Interesting device," Commented her companion under his breath.

Below and on the ground, Allen Lee leaded a few other Harbormen out of the gate, but not venture too close to those lampposts. All of them holding some form of weapons or guns in their hands. Their eyes trained to the stirring and tumbling dense fog.

 _The Fog is alive._

The thought hit her like a rock bolder. It was a rather surprising notion but there was no other way to describe it. It was as if the whole mass of those thick veils of mist there was some kind of creature, circling around the parameter of this town, weighing its best way to attack. Was that even possible? She knew after going through what she had gone through since opening her eyes inside that cryogenic tube, nothing was impossible. But something in a wasp of floating smoke form? Wouldn't that be a bit too far fetch?

There was no time to dwell on that. Blurry movements behind the veil became clearer. Something was, or were, approaching. Riley removed the safety of her rifle and trained her magazine at the approaching grey mass, her heart in throat. Everything was quiet for one second and next, before anyone managed to even blink, a large creature looked a lot like Enlarged version of Salamander burst through the smog. Shouts called and some of the men started to fire. They barely had time to register this one when another creature leaped into the small cobblestone square, again one of those large slimy things.

"Gulper!" Captian Avery barked from the walkway, making her jump. She had forgotten for a moment that the leader was with her on the top, a vantage point enabled for her to see everything. The grey hair woman raised her rifle and fired, promptly blown up the body of the Radroache that just crawled in. Keen to lend those men below a hand, the blonde also took aim at the Gulper below and pulled the trigger. Reba II made a loud bang and the bullet penetrated the skin of the being easily.

"Watch it!"

"More is coming!"

Locals on the ground fended off the intruders, while warning each others with such a expertise, Riley suspected they might had done this more often than she realised. With only a few second to catch breath, another monster came through the fog. This time it looked like one of those deep sea fish she had read about in the book before, except it had arms and legs. A little similar to Deathclaws, its claws were sharp enough to leave marks on the stone ground.

"Angler!"

The Angler were able to spew blue glowy energy balls much similar to the flames those lamppost emitting. People below knew it and started to dive out of its way, while the ones on the wall like Riley, Captain Avery and Nick fired their shots from a safe distance. Gnawing her lower lip, the long hair blonde executed more than one shot to successfully gun down the horrific looking beast. When it was done, more than one dead creatures' body spawned on the square and almost everyone have more than one kind of blood and bits of flesh on their face, hair or armour.

"Oh, well, guess this is part of the welcome party." Captain Avery leaned against the tall pole beside her, letting out a long sigh. The older woman was back to that wearied look Riley saw a moment ago, back on the pier when she and Nick arrived.

"It was quite a party." She could not help but chuckled, too. Beside her, the Synth detective carefully put his gun away.

It was when she noticed the person beside the local leader. A pair of eye with the same piercing blue hue like those lamppost below. She frowned, and watched the man grinned behind his unruly beard.

"Welcome to Far Harbor." She heard Captain Avery said.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 **Still debating if I should go through this with Beta. After the last chapter I still don't think anyone would want it. So...**

 **The usual, James O'Malley is my creation. Everything else belonged to Bethesda**

* * *

2.

Three days later, Riley Pascal found herself in the middle of a swamp, waist deep in the muddy water while trying her hardest not to get her new power armour to get stuck. One would thought after trekking literally through the entire the Commonwealth after all these time, it should become easier to move inside one of those glorified cage. But hell no, she did not know how those Gunners and Raiders, or Paladin Danse, or the whole Brotherhood of Steel managed; it remained so bloody hard to her. Perhaps it was because she wasn't born in this era? No, she wouldn't think so. They were around when the bomb fell so it wouldn't be that.

"Must be the hands and eyes coordination thing." She muttered under her breath as she pulling her left leg out.

"Talking to yourself again?" Nick's voice promptly rose from a behind. The Gen 3 Synth did not seem to bother by all the spooky and damp discomfort surrounded this island. He was also wearing some form of a power armour-a empty frame, more like. Riley had given him her own one after discovering the one she was wearing now on the side of the road less than an hour ago. It was an old T-45-the very one she got when she first stumbled upon Preston at Concord. She did not really expect seeing this many strange things, let along the radiated fog. There was only one way for it: she headed back to fetch a armour at the earliest opportunity. A wise choice, judging by the majority of the parts had been damaged or blown up since she explored the island to carry out variety of task Settlers at Far Harbar had asked her. It would be her who got shot and blow up if she only garbed a suit of standard combat armour. At any rate, the detective had that armour for now and it made carrying all those stuff they found on the way a lot easier.

"You know me." She made a wry chuckle, making a face under her helmet.

"Now, remind me one more time, what are we doing here, in the middle of the muddy puddle?" Ask Nick, his golden eyes shifted left and right, taking in their surroundings.

"Rite of Passage," Riley let out a long sigh: "Things I do for the good people of the Commonwealth. I am so sorry. I know we are supposed to investigate Kasumi and your brother DiMA..."

"That can wait," Nick waved his free hand dismissively. The fluid motion made her feel a little envious. How did he do that inside the power armour? "Besides, we have talked about this. I am not exactly convinced he is what he said he is."

"Oh, come on, Nick. Even you admit he look just like you inside the mirror." Riley glanced at him, frowning under her helmit.

The Synth did not say anything further. The blonde could see a hint of shadow once more dominated on his face. The Institute really had done a pretty good job mimicking the human expression. And he was only the first generation! It was no wonder a lot of people freaked out and held a certain discrimination against them. Yet in her opinion, it was they the human who created them. Imperfect race attempted to create something perfect. She found such a notion rather beautiful. But that was besides the point here. What was more important was what they found back at the Arcadia when they finally reached there yesterday.

Up until that point, no one, not even Nick, remembered what his life was like inside the Institute. It was a lot like stumbled upon some hidden records, of what he was like before waking up among that pile of rubbish. He found it hard to believe and refused to take in any of the revelation. Which she totally understood. After all, this was the Institute they were talking about. Anyone or anything came out of that place could be false. One could never be too careful. Yet on the other hand, she thought there were a certain degree of truth in this and her friend should not discard all of them.

Perhaps the old data DiMA asked them to retrieve have something in there related to all of those, about Nick, one of her dearest friends and most trusted allies.

Though before they did that, they have this task in hand to deal with.

Where were they? Ah, dropping the meaty thing.

It was luck she had some Radroaches meat on her. Teddy didn't say what kind of meat she should drop as long as it was fresh. So she guessed this would do. As she fumbled her bag awkwardly (another cons of Power Armour), Nick beside her cleared his throat.

"Enough about me. What about you, Riley? What's the story about that blue eye Harborman?"

Her hand stilled. She had almost forgotten how observant her friend could be; especially one had the profession as a detective. The Harborman in question and her had been eyeing each other since day one, on that walkway up on the high wall. Just looking, for none of them appeared wanting to be the first to initiate the conversation. There was something there. Tension, longing, same fighting spirit that hidden behind their wearied shell of the body. She had only had that experience once before. It was when she first met Nate, and it was more than two hundred years ago. Such sparks should only ignite once in a lifetime. She was a little unsure how it could happened again after all these time, after she thought her heart had shattered into a million pieces when watching her beloved husband died before her. She wasn't even sure if it was all her imagination, or the side effect of her drinking too much, or taking too much chem. Yet every time she returned to that seaside settlement, she felt that pair of eyes was on her. There would be a point when she could no longer resist, but that point hasn't come het. Least she didn't think so.

"Not a place nor time to have this conversation, Nick," She found the meat and held it up in her hand: "Weapons ready."

The Gen 1 Synth's stance turned serious. He tightened his grip on the gun and gave her a slowly nod.

X

James O'Mally clenched his burly body, making himself half hidden amongst the tall glass. His dark brown coat enabled him to blend in with the surroundings rather well and enable him not being discovered by the others, be it human or monsters. It had worked rather well, for he had just witness one medium size Mirelurk crawling past him without even noticed he was there only moments before. It came with years of hunting experience. Almost everyone on the Island knew how to do that in a degree. Yes, it included those damn Children of Atom.

No. Honestly, he didn't really hold any grudge against them. Unlike Allen Lee and several other fellow Far Harbor people. Having lived on the Island all his life, he believed what the older people believed, that the Island had its wicked sense of humour and it had its way of picking who stayed and who went. If those Cult people were able to survive here long enough, he could see no problem to let them stay.

No, he wasn't here to ambush them. As far as he knew the Children of Atom's base was situated elsewhere. He was here under the order of Teddy, their town doctor, to be a witness of the coming event. Apparently the man had requested the Mainlander who went by the name Riley Pascal and her Synth friend (so he was a Synth after all, his guess had been accurate) to prove themselves by carrying out the Captain's Dance- a trial originally used to appoint the Captain of Far Harbar, in which the Island threw its most dangerous creatures at the participant. She was the first outsider in history who went on this trial. He knew why the doctor put this test on her. The man believed this one was ready to be trusted and he intended to prove it to the rest of the people in town. Also being a true Far Harbor man, he believed it was time to let the Island test her.

At any rate, here he was, waiting for the woman and Synth to show up.

He found himself hoping she would succeed. He realised he cared about this stranger a great deal, for reason he was not able to fathom even to himself. There was a certain pull between them since that night up on the Hull. He believed both of them had recognised it and somehow hesitated to give in to that pull. They both passed the innocent youth and knew precisely what it meant. And it was exactly because they were old enough to know what it meant; they knew the factors affected by it. The longer she hung around Far Harbor, the harder it became for both of them to resist this. Yet he did not wish her stay here would be short. Eh, dilemma. Such a dilemma indeed.

Footsteps, mechanic movements and splashes disturbed the usual quietness and order of the woods. James peered his head over the tip of the long grass and realised they were here. She was gearing her usual Power Armour. A few days after they arrived, he noticed Riley left for the Mainland and returned with a full suite of Power Armour 12 hours later. He saw the Synth was now in another one. It gave him a bit of frown. There was one somewhere on the Island? Or had the Synth in Arcadia given them one? Perhaps he should head out to scout the place again to see if there were more. The Mariner and Allen would surely be delighted if he could find more.

The Harbarman watched as they threaded over the swamp as quiet as they could possibly do, while keeping their eyes peeled at their surroundings and weapons readied at any given time. At one stage, the Mainlander's gaze took one swipe over the tall grass and looked straight at him. A faint incline of her head informed him she had seen him. He gave her a small nod in return and saw her turned her head back to her partner and whispered something, before the two of them walked over the spot where they were suppose to drop the fresh meat. His breath hitched as the small sound of splashed echoed through the wetland.

For a moment, there was nothing changed. The bog carried on as nothing outwards had just happened. But he knew better, and he wagered the two Mainlanders knew better. All three of them waited as the whole forest area suddenly woke. The fog weaved between the dead trees stirred. the grounds began to shake and the ripples suddenly disturbed the peaceful water surface. Three large Mirelurks emerged from blurry surrounding of the mire; one even glowed with shimmering green lights. Their beady eyes gleamed with wild hunger in the shadow of their thick shell and their pincer clicked excitedly as they approached at the high speed. At their feet, several young hatchlings scurried along with the adult ones. They were like the weird form of Radroaches. James was not suppose to help, so he could only remain where he was and tried his hardest not to fire his gun by accident, or on impulse.

The blonde a few metered before him calmly raised her rifle, took aim at the one that was about to reach her and fired. One loud bang and some ear piercing screeched later, the monster appeared to be staggered a little, but still moving. She yelped from inside her helmet and threw out a heavy punch at the beast; this time totally knocked it off. Behind her, the Synth switched his glowing sword (what was that?) to a flamethrower and started to shoot the second one. It did not like it and tried to dodge away. Well, not fast enough, apparently. For the next second the poor thing was engulfed in flame. When the last thread of fire was out, everything was back to eerie quietness. It seemed the first wave of attack was over.

He believed all of them knew it was far from over. The Island would not let them get away this easily. The Harborman had been told since young the Captain's Dance had the most vicious and most notorious ones coming one waves after another the instant the meat was dropped. It was silence at the moment only because they were waiting for the next signal. Yes, that was it. What they had now was only the calm before the next raging storm. More meat would trigger the next assault. And there were plenty of them scattered around right now after what they just killed.

James shifted in his hiding spot and observed Riley pulled out one of her melee weapons and carefully cut off several large slabs of meat and tossed them into her rucksack. Ah, those were for their own food supply later. The Mainlander then picked up one dead hatchling, walked to the designated spot, and dropped it. This time it didn't even take that long before the next wave tore the swamp apart.

Two Mirelurk Kings and several Mirelurk Hunters this time. Oh, this was good. Even he had not seen that many of them in one setting. More aggressive and powerful shots from the good weapons were fired. If he wasn't mistaken, he believed he saw one explosion caused by Mini Nuke. Mini Nuke, it was about the size of one Mirelurk egg. How on Earth did they even dragged that everywhere? He was so engrossed in his assigned task, he was completely unaware of something else approached him. Until a sharp pain inflicted on his back. His hissed and snapped his head around, finding himself less than half a meter away from a Gulper.

"Bleeding Hell," He swore. Hand-size axe hung on his waist was immediately out and went to its forehead. The creature screamed and attempted to make his slap again. Not so easy this time around. James dodged, and hacked the knee parts. The monster grunted and staggered back, giving the Harborman some precious time to lengthen the distance between them. He reached for the Harpoon Gun on his back and fired a few shots; one hit the right eye, one at the neck and one very, very close to the heart. He switched to a much simpler Modified Pistol and kept firing until the being fell into the muddle puddle and stopped moving.

Then he realised the second wave of the attack had stopped and their surroundings was once again silence. All of the creatures sent by the Island were now dead. Riley had past the second round. Yet somehow he had a feeling it wasn't the end.

The blonde girl seemed to think so, too. She cut more meat and tossed into the water. The whole area was shaking once more, this time it was even more so than before. This was it. This was the ultimate test from the Island in the Captain's Dance. Blurry shadows whooshed from distance to close. This time, this final time, was a Mirelurk Queen that was so large, any house back at the Far Harbor looked like wooden crates in comparison.

"Feck!" All three of them cursed (hell, yes, even the Synth). Training his gun at the creature, James started to fire without even pausing to think he wasn't supposed to do that. All he thought was there was no way this girl was able to deal with this on her own and he simply could not let her do just that.

Large Pincer started to wave from left to right. The Giant Mirelurk Queen hissed, shrieked and roared at her worthy opponent, attempting to attack them all at once. The three of them scattered at different direction, but keep within the parameter so the Rite of Passage would not get disqualified. This was the final test. The beast had to be slaughtered or the whole ritual would not count. Swapping back to the Harpoon Gun again, the Harborman tried his hardest to avoid the Lurk's attack while firing shots at her. It wasn't easy, for the weapon was damn heavy. But it was the only thing that was able to penetrate the thick shell of those sea life creatures. Down at the other side, Riley, who had her right arm's armour destroyed somewhere around the second wave, got her Fat Man out again and started to take aim at the being. The Synth returned his heavy gun of choice to the Flame Thrower. With the aide of Jet and Whiskey shared between them, they rotated directions just in time and attacked when they could to wear down the beast's strength. It took them what feel like ages. When the boss finally hit the bog and slashed mud and water everywhere, he was down to the last Harpoon.

For a long, long time, none of them spoke, all too bush catching up breath. Then James O'Malley got up to his feet slowly, gave Riley Pascal a small nod and turned to leave the Swamp.

The Rite of Passage, the Captain's Dance, was completed.

The Mainlander had passed the test.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: James O'Malley belong to me, and all the rest belonged to Bethesda**

* * *

3.

They returned to Far Harbor victoriously. Well, more like Riley and her Synth friend who went by the name of Nick returned to the Far Harbor victoriously. James would not call himself that, not in that sense. Using his local knowledge as an advantage, he managed to get himself back to town a few hours ahead of the Mainlanders so he was able to report what he saw to the others, including Doctor Teddy Wright, the one who gave out the test. It wasn't all that hard, giving a oral report and recounting the story in front of the crowd. What was hard was trying to hide the fact he actually helped the two to defeat that Mirelurk queen at the end. It wasn't his nature to lie, and he solely hoped the Island wasn't going to get angry because of this little hiccup.

At the end, much to his relief, the townsfolk bought the whole story without a single shred of doubt and by the time the Mainlander back, they were given virtually a hero's welcome. No one had done the task since Captain Avery. And considering their leader's age, anyone would be easily understand how rare it was for another person to complete the quest and live to tell the tale. A large celebrating feast was held and everyone got the best food and booze out to share.

It had been an age since the simple townsfolk of Far Harbor were this happy. Actually, it was the first time he saw a few of them smile, genuine smile, and not just pulling unwilling facial muscles. No small feat and he had their newest heroine to thank. She was practically one of them now. It was a good thing, wasn't it? He supposed it was. Life at the Far Harbor had been hard, and he could not honestly remember when was the last time they celebrate anything. And for that, it somehow also put him into a good mood. Sitting at the corner of the town's only tavern, half hidden in the shadow cast by the light in the middle of the room, he watched through his hooded eyes as she interacted a little awkwardly with everyone. She was finally out of her Power Armour, as well as whatever Combat Armour she always appeared to be wearing since she got here. Wearing just simple radhide coat and some worn jeans, she really looked just like one of them and not some Mainlander from elsewhere.

And absolutely stunning.

"So," Allen's voice boomed next to him, Whiskey thick in his breath: "...She had done it, had she not?"

"Yep." James replied simply, sipping his Bourbon.

"I suppose it can't be false, since you were there to witness the whole thing..." He hiccupped.

"Unless you doubt the credibility of my words?" He torn his gaze away from the blonde and looked at the weapon tradesman of the town, his blue eyes gleamed in the semi darkness.

Allen burst out laughing: "Of course not! Everyone here know you can't lie! I am just a little surprise someone who's not us is able to pull that off. The Captain's Dance, aye? Fancy that!"

"Thank you very much. I am deeply insulted. What do you mean I can't lie?" James chuckled into his bottle.

"Oh, come on! Everyone know your face turned as red as a cooked Mirelurk right outside when you make the slightest attempt to lie." He laughed again, this time along with several others near them who heard their conversation.

James chuckled a little and shrugged off their joke. He was used to that. Yes, he did have a bit of hard time saying something he did not meant to. It was a bloody miracle he even managed to keep a straight face tonight. But that was beside the point. The main thing was that woman named Riley had slaughtered majority of the creatures the Island sent (minus the Gulper...and that Mirelurk Queen) and earned some form of trust and respect from Far Harbor. Whatever she was here to do, least she did not have to worry about people here looking at her suspiciously.

He drew his gaze back to the blonde, and realised with a jolt she was looking right back at him. Auborn eyes as deep as most potent Bourbon were swirling, pulling him over and drowning him in. It had been like that since the start, and now it was even stronger than ever, after what they had been through back at that swamp. The excuse he came up with, or he suspected both of them came up with, becoming lamer and lamer at each time they felt each other's presence. Suddenly the room as too crowded and the air became a little harder to breath. Calloused fingers around the glass bottle tightened. He gnawed his lower lip for a moment, and got up to his feet, tearing himself way from Riley's gaze and out of the bar.

The Harborman found himself at the back of the tavern, facing a small dock overlook the vast sea. At the distance, he could see the island where Old Longfellow's cabin, was hidden behind the fog at the distance. No, it wasn't all that far, yet somehow from where he was standing now, it was meters sna d meters away. It had always been like that as long as he could remember, yet tonight it did not bother him all that much. He would think it did not bother the rest all that much tonight, either. The joyful atmosphere had washed off all the glooms of the Far Harbor. He raised the bottle in his hand and took one long gulp from the mouth before let out a long breath. Chilled air filled his lung. Now this was much better.

He stood there, watching his breath mingled with cold air idly and letting his train of thought running here and there, backwards and forwards. From the good people at Far Harbor, to those Synth at Arcadia, to the Children of Atom, to the Trappers, to the Islands, and eventually, back to the Mainlander who stumbled into their lives only a little more than a week ago. The stranger with the eyes of dark Bourbon. There had never been a dull moment as long as he could remember and everything was crazy. Yet at the bottom of everything and everyone's mind, peaceful lives was the only thing they had ever wonted. The problem was to have such a tranquil life; one must step over the bodies of the others to reach there. Survival of the fittest. The same rule applied to everyone, regardless if you are from Far Harbor or from the Mainland. You must gave some to gain some.

And no one was willing to lose any more.

He rubbed his gloved hands over his face, and the overgrown beard that obscured most of his face. Behind him, someone opened the door and stepped out. He glanced over his shoulders and suddenly everything around him stilled. The swirling dark Bourbon colour eyes once again captured him. He looked into them for the longest moment and suddenly he decided he did not want to struggle anymore.

X X X

It was, in all honesty, quite a surreal and bizarre scenario. Suddenly everyone changed from being guarded and distance to warm and welcoming. Best buds all around. Riley found herself being pat on her shoulder so hard; she nearly tumbled forward onto the floor. Were they the same group of people who looked at her with such a strong animosity and distrust only a little more than a few weeks ago? How one Rite of Passage would change people's view on her so dramatically? Hours after she got back and several bottles of Bourbons, Whiskey and Vim later, she was still struggling to figure it out. One quest. It was but one quest. Though she must admit, it wasn't an easy quest.

Never in her life since waking up from Vault 111 she had to fight that many radiated creature. Never in her life she had swore that much. Never in her life had she wished she should have carried more weapons. Never in her life she questioned the strength of the Jet Pack or Stim Pack She was injecting into her body. Never in her life she had so many adrenaline cursed through her body in such a short timeframe. It was, in all honesty, one of the toughest tests she had endured in her lifetime-both before and after she was out of her Cryo stasis. It was no longer no one had been able to complete it since the last captain. And it was no wonder they needed to send a witness just to be sure she had actually done it.

Ah, yes, the witness.

That was different matter entirely.

She did not know who they would send. They would not send Captain Avery, Doctor Teddy Wright had stated that much. Or anyone significant in the small town of Far Harbor. Therefore when she saw the familiar piercing blue eyes half hidden among the tall grass, it was quite a bit of a surprise. She was fairly certain no one knew what went on between her and the mystery Harborman who she overheard on occasions others call him James, for so far they had not even talked to each other (the one at the Swamp didn't really count). Unless one was as observant as Nick, she doubted anyone would have even guessed from the small looks they exchanged, let alone interpreted what they meant.

Yes, by now, she was absolutely certain that they desired each other. And with each passing moment, the resolution they had upon themselves weakened. Why couldn't they? Would the consequences they faced that horrible, they had to think hard and find excuses not to? They were both adults and very much aware by the time she left this island, they would not see each other again. So why hesitate? The question circled inside her head round and round and round, to a degree it almost drove her mad.

She was standing in the middle of the room, of that one and only bar and socialising place everyone go when they were not sulking over the life this island threw at them, surrounding by almost every man and their bloody dog because she had completed the Captain's Dance. The Vim in her hand had been there for so long, it started to get a bit warm. Her head was a little tipsy, from the overwhelming crowd around her than the booze. Her smile had become a little forced and she felt kind of tired. It was when she saw him, the raggedy Harborman with a unforgettable eyes. She stared at him, across the room and a vast group of people, and he stared back. Suddenly all voice around them snuffed out, fading into mere whisper behind the fog. Suddenly whatever excuse she, or him, had come up with no longer important. Back at the bog, he had leaped forward to aide her when it was clearly stated a witness should not interfere with the Rite of Passage. He had tossed the rules aside and helped her. Why was she still here, joggling all kinds of rubbish and straddling herself with all kinds of rubbish to make that move?

Riley watched him got up and left the busy tavern. Mumbling some excuses she completely didn't know what they were, she impulsively pushed over the crowd and followed suit. Cold but damp air rushed to her face as the door opened. She nearly walk straight into him. Heart leaped into her throat, for a moment, she lost the ability to breath. All she was able to do was stare at him. Vaguely, she was aware this was perhaps the closest distance she had ever stood next to this man. The time was stilled, the air was stilled, and the voice was stilled. Then she didn't know which one of them moved first. All she knew was they were kissing. His warm lips on hers, and her slightly cool ones on his.

To hell with the reluctance. To hell with excuses. Neither of them cared.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This was meant to be part of previous chapter. Yet somehow against the better judgement, I decided to put this whole thing in another chapter. I don't know, after resting my pen for so long, I dislike having long chapter. So apology if you feel the previous one was a bit dull.**

 **New job and my lack of confidence on writing smutt make my later than usual posting. After over 4 years of practicing this area on Tumblr RP, I found myself still need more improvement in this region. Eh.**

 **James O'Malley belong to me, everything else belonged to Bethesda.**

* * *

4

The upstairs rooms of The Last Plank, in all honesty, were way cleaner than a lot of the accommodations in the bigger cities Riley had set her foot upon. Even in Diamond City, the crown jewel of the Commonwealth, there were debris and rubbish piling up in the corners. Before coming here, she had come to term with the common sights. But after seeing the chamber for hire of this town, she wasn't all that sure. There were times she solemnly missed the old days, days she was familiar with, days when everything made sense, days when people she knew and loved still breathing and around her. There were times when everything was sure as sunrise. Standing at the entrance of the room closets to the fire staircase at the back of the building, she suddenly desperately hoping what she was doing was one of those things she was sure of.

Was it? She wasn't all that sure, in all honesty. But she was very sure she got sick of keep finding excuse for it. There was something there and both of them were aware of that pull. Now that resistance snapped and they decided not to put it off. Turning, she was once again in this mysterious Harborman called James' embrace and once again his lips were on hers. All the tension bottled up since their first meeting exploded to desperate needs. The primal needs, the emotional needs, the unsaid needs. So many of them. All of them even she was surprised that she had. The door was barely closed and she was nudged and crushed against the wooden panel in the matter of seconds. Her long arms were around his board shoulders. Slender fingers, once soft and supple but now calloused and riddled with small cuts and bruises, dug into his hair and managed to pull a few strands of hair out of his otherwise tidy and pulled up bun. Heat radiated from him was passing to her through their clothes, warming her. His beard tickled her chin, then down her throat and to the soft skin just there at the crook of her shoulder blade. His large hands, one rested on door and one grasped her upper arm. It was then travelled along the side of her body and finally rested on her waist. For a few moments, aside from the short gasps between changes of breath, neither of them spoke. All they were focusing on was enjoying the closeness of each other. It was glorious. It _felt_ glorious.

Eventually, it wasn't enough. Not close enough. Needed to be closer. Almost unanimously, they started to tug each other's clothes, clumsily and desperately trying to remove them while their hands and lips remained on each other. Riley grabbed a fistful of Jame's collar and pushed. Taking hints, he rolled his board shoulders so he was able to shrug his Radstag hide jacket off. When it finally did, he let it drop onto the threadbare rug with a thud. Her hands went to his waistband next, pulling his shirt out of his jeans. When they felt the hem, the fingers slipped in, enjoying the sensation of his bare skin under there.

His hands weren't idle either. They went to the buttons of her shirt and clumsily undid them, shaking and struggling to steady. After one and two, he lost patient. With a growl he curled his fingers around the plackets and tore them apart with excess force. The remaining buttons bounced off, disappearing into somewhere in the dim room. She would have to find another shirt later, but right now, she really did not care. Chuckling and breathing a little rapidly, she continued to work on remove the remaining cloth, and so was he. Very soon, both of them were topless. Her round breasts were fully exposed before him, brushing against his chest. Her nipples were hard, half because of the cold air and half something else. Their arms were tightly around each other once more as they finally away from the door and moved toward the single bed at the other side of the small room. It was unclear who leaded who, but eventually both of them fell into slightly stiff and mouldy mattress.

"Riley." She heard him calling her name-the first time he had done so. The voice was raspy, deep and guttural. It was full of desire and longing, something she knew from that first moment she saw him. It tugged something inside her, stirring the fire already blazing at the pit of her abdomen. A hint of smile hovered at the edge of her mouth as she felt her body shook. How simple name she had used so many years would sound so differently, coming out of him.

"Riley," He called again. It was more urgent this time, half begging, half enquiring. Every sinew of her body sang. She sighed in response, arching her back and letting him fumbled her belt. His mouth at the same time moved to her collarbone, her chest, breathing damp and warm air on her skin. She cried out this time, her hands fisted around the sheet. When his head halted at her breast and began to suckle her pebbled nipples, her head rolled back and she was lost in waves of pleasure threaten to burst.

It took several attempts, but at last the belt was unbuckled and her jeans and underpants was peeled off and tossed to the floor, joining the pile they had shredded earlier. With a grunt to kick off her boots and socks, she was completely bared under him, buttercream skin forming a stark contrast to the grey tone bed linen. Riley watched James paused, left his head and looked over her, his blue eyes gleamed in the dark room: He liked what he saw, and somewhat it pleased her.

"Your turn." She purred, grabbed hold of his shoulders and rolled over. Now she was on the top, straddling him. Her blonde hair was draping around her face and around his. His belt was unbuckled and his trousers were pushed from his waist. His arousal sprang free from all the restrains. Smirking, she ran the tip of her forefinger over the length, enticing a groan out of him. Good.

She could have taken it slow. She should have taken it slow. Teasing, tempting, seducing... the whole nine yard. But she was impatient tonight, and so was he. She could not wait. It had taken them so long. They had waited long enough. No, she would not take slow tonight. Simple as that.

Everything speeded up from that point onward. The bottled up desire they both had inside them made them rush everything. Still on the top, she climbed and slipped him into her, moaning at the sensation of him fill her up inside. After the first avalanches of pleasure passed, she started to move, rolling her hips and picking up the pace. She would hear him growl out, his voice guttural and filled with lust. It matched the noise that unintentionally escaped her parted lips. It felt so good, yet it barely scratched the surface. It wasn't the first time for either of them. They knew the true joy, and pleasure, had yet to come.

Suddenly, without warning, he sat up, his arms were around her waist and they were both sitting somewhat. The change of position startled her a little but soon that surprise was overlapped by something else.

"James," Riley cried out his name as he started to move forward and backward, her eyes flutter closed at the another wave of sensation washed over her. Her head rolled back over her shoulder, pushing her breasts forward. Taking hint, he leaned forward and kissed her soft mounds, his tongue flicked over her flesh and teased her harden nipples.

"James." His name slipped out of her again. The assault from both sides nearly drove her to total distraction. She felt every inch of her skin was burning. Her fingers clenched onto the skin of his upper arm, letting him rocked her roughly and madly, and feeling herself being pushed higher and higher at a speed she was barely able to catch breath. Then she was over the edge before she knew it. It was so fast, she didn't even realise it. Her body convulsed and shook as the climax took her.

When her mind slowly returned to oblivion, she noticed they were still locked in the intimate embrace and he was still hilt deep inside her, his shaft rocking hard. Sensing the brunette had descended back to the present, he gave her a smirk and began to move again, this time a bit slow and not rush to anywhere. Brown eyes widen somewhat and gradually her sated fire at the pit of her abdomen was once again burning. The Harborman nudged and gently pushed her down so her back was against the matress this time. Her long legs wrapped around his waist. The second time around took longer, yet the blinding delight she experienced moment ago all the same. Her inner walls tightened and loosen around him at the rhythm he built. Her fingers dug into the muscle slabbed shoulders over her. The weight was delicious. She could not help but sighed on the top of the moans and whimpers she already produced.

Was this crazy, doing this in a strange room at a strange hotel on a strange island with a stranger? Was this crazy, to find that this person had elicited so many things she did not expect to have in her still? Was it crazy, do find she enjoyed every second of this? To be honest, it was not as strange, or crazy, as waking up from a cryogenic stasis at an underground Vault and being told 200 years had gone since she last saw the sky. Nor it was as crazy as trying to track down the only son who was only a wee infant the last time anyone saw him. It was that fragment of her senses talking; the one that used to be a lawyer, one that used to everything was in order. Everyone knew nothing was in good order anymore. It had been like that for at least two centuries. So what happened between her and this mystery James O'Malley at this moment was completely not mad at all. No, it wasn't. And every sinew of her body told her so.

They reached that pinnacle of total bliss at the same time at this round, allowing the ecstasy enveloped them both, carrying them off to a place that was so far from here. For a moment, all they could hear was each other's heartbeat, all they could feel was each other's slightly salty skin, and all they could think was...completely nothing. They tangled in that narrow, slightly stiffy and mouldy single bed, their limbs intertwined, and so were their breath, enjoyed for a long time that afterglow of their intimacy.

Then he moved, lifting his head and looked into her eyes, his hair was half undone but his eyes remained as blue as ever.

"Hello."

"Hey." Riley chuckled in amusement.

"I am James O'Malley." He grinned.

"I know." She did her best to keep her face stern: "And I am Riley Pascal."

His grin deepened, laughing line fanned around his eyes: " _I know._ "


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thought I forgot about this one, did you?**

 **Apology about the late update. Work and other things had keeping me from ever finish this chapter. Also I finally finished Far Harbor about half way through writing this and had some internal debate whether I should change the direction where my little fanfic is heading. At the end I decided to stick to the original plan.**

 **Again no beta on this one so some of the words and grammar might be a little hard to read.**

 **I own nothing except James O'Malley.**

* * *

5

It was one of these days. The grey clouds, mustered, rolling onto the distant stage one after the other. The usual calm deep blue sea, with its crystal-tipped waves, like the clouds, seemed to be forming into one foaming mass. The mist, heavy with salt, covered absolutely everything and everyone, dampening all despite it wasn't even raining today. Not yet anyway. Anyone who has lived on this island long enough would told you it would be a bloody miracle to go through one day without a good drizzle. The wooden structure squeaked. The Mirelurk carapaces, newly erected on the top of the Hull, made a hallow noise in the wind. According to The Mariner, they would help strengthen the wall, hence building up their defences, against the Island. They kind of needed that, even after the mysterious visitor from the Mainland reclaimed a couple of settlements for them. Far Harbor was still their last line, the place they could not afford to lose.

Everyone carried on their daily routine as usual. Allan took out his box of Harpin and started polishing it with an oily rag, while occasionally yelled out his not so convincing cries. Teddy Wright stood by Cassie Dalton with his gear on the table, giving the old lady a simple checkup. Captain Avery was on the top of the Wall facing the dock, a gun in her hand, looking into the distance with a thoughtful expression on her wrinkled face. Small Bertha, who just got back from Echo Lake Lumber for a brief visit, was watching one of the Fisherman tossing the rod into the sea with great interest. The Mariner was sitting before the large dead Mirelurk boiler, pouring some hot drink into the cup. She had gone semi retired after returning from her big hunt on the Red Death Island, but she still went around the town daily to check on their defence, She and a couple of other Harborman, to be honest. They had done this for the majority of their lives. To them, nothing in this mad, mad world would change that. It was the only sane thing in this totally insane world.

James O'Malley stood in front of the chopping table, carefully scaling, degutting and filleting the fish he just caught. Beside the board, a large square tin with thin layer of salt was readied. He intended to marinate and smoke most of them for easy storage and cooked some of them with Razorgrain later tonight. It was a larger than usual catch. He caught it near Old Longfellow's cabin. That old man's place was a surprisingly good fishing spot. He wondered why none of the townsfolk had thought about that before. After all, threading across that bit of water should not be so hard. And the fog around the place wasn't exactly as dense as other parts of the Island. Unless one counted a couple of random Gulpers, or Mirlurks. Though it wasn't like the first time any of them had seenthat...

"Oi, O'Malley!" Uncle Ken, the Last Plank barman and owner Mitch's uncle, stepped out of the bar's rare entrance, growling at him almost as soon as he spotted him: "Good day aye?"

"Hi, Uncaken." James hummed; his eyes remained on the half filleted fish he was working on. He was in a good mood. He had been in a good mood for some time. And it wasn't just for his fish catch. Hell, yes, it was more than that. He did not think people in this town knew it yet. Which was rare, considering how small this place was and how gossipy people were. But he had been very discrete. That and the limited time he had.

"Seen our favourite Mainlander recently?" Uncle Ken growled again, pulling out his pipe and lit it.

Well, here goes the discreteness

"...Don't think I do." The Harborman replied nonchalantly.

"Off for some days now, isn't she?" The older man took a few short inhales to get the fire going.

"...That's local tourism for ye." James fetched an empty pan and started tossing a few slices of fillets in it, along with oils extracted from Radchicken. He wasn't sure how much the old man knew, or guessed. But there was no way in hell he would admit anything to him. Not when the entire town probably perked their ears up and listened to every single syllable coming out of their mouths. Damn perks of living in such a close proximity. He did love this place. But there were moments he wished he was alone like Old Longfellow and his little shack.

The old man chuckled and coughed a little-side effect of long years' enduring the rough weather of the Island. He was about to say something like better get himself some Whiskey from his beloved nephew when he suddenly stopped, his gaze stared past the Harborman's shoulders.

"New visitor?"

James frowned and turned. Sure enough, a long man stood at the entrance from the docks, looking about him curiously. There was an air of peculiarity about him. Predatory, danger, one that made people's hair at the back of their neck stood up. As much as this one dressed like, or tried his hardest to behave like, a tourist, the fact no man in their right mind would visit this place made him downright suspicious. Riley and her friend looked ten times friendlier in comparison.

"This hell hole? Pfft." He mumbled, his eyes continued to follow the stranger. Several people on the common area stopped whatever they were doing and pretty much did the same thing-following the new comer from the edge of their eyes.

Whatever they were thinking, or guessing, they most certainly did not expect what happened a few minutes later. The stranger walked to Brooks' shop. He watched the merchant moving about behind the counter silently with the hawk like eyes of his and without warning; he pulled out a gun and pointed at the man.

"Where is he?"

X X X

"You really need to have that wound of yours to look at."

Nick's worry remark once again echoed the silence of the woods as they slowly made their way back to the Far Harbor. Dealing with Shipbreaker had severely damaged the Power Armour they were in. The Synth was okay. His armour was found on this Island, so it was still sturdy. That and the fact he was a Synth explained why he was still able to even walk. But for Riley, it was another matter. Since the BoS one she was wearing was already battered- thanks to her long time travel and barely had time to stop to repair them, today's battle had finally rip one of her shoulder plate off and wounded her shoulder. Her arm was now in throbbing pain and she strongly suspected it had been dislocated. She felt like she was being trampled over by two Mirelurk Queen and one Deathclaw. Not entirely a pleasant feeling in her opinion.

She sighed and checked the Fusion Core meter before carefully manoeuvred over a turned over school bus, all the while half expecting the rotten metal was going to turn into giant hermit crab any minute. She remembered how they were once very small and very cute in her time, more than two hundred years ago. She even kept a few of them as a pet when she was little. Time had changed. Everything had changed. She found she was still having hard time adjusting. It was so different than arguing over the case in the courtroom. It was so different than staying up preparing reports. No, she could no longer go back. She could only move ahead.

The Far Harbor was in sight. She could see the glowing Fog Condensers guarding the entrance square in front of the Hull. A sense of relief overwhelmed her. The chance to rest without the interference of mad creatures or the Fog on this island made her moved forward with renew energy. This dockside town had become some kind of sanctuary, a safe haven for her. It was even more so than Sanctuary, the very town she originated from. And of course, there was something else that drew her toward this town as well. Something tugged her heartstring. Every time she left this place, she started counting down the days she was able to see him again. The last time she felt anything remotely close was when she was still with Nate. And Nate was gone. And she was still breathing.

Not because of she was heartless. Not because she was cold. She still felt the pain jarring through her every time she thought of the event taken place on that fateful day in Vault 111. She was still very determined to find Shaun. She did not think she would ever recover from that lose. But part of her...after meeting the Harborman, somehow the pain was no long so severe. Somehow being with him taught her how to edge around the wound to avoid it. Somehow she realised she was still able to care. And she liked that.

They moved past the old trapper's house where a large Radstag carcass dangling outside. It was when she noticed something was odd. There was no sound coming out from the gate, not even the usual buzzed. It was as if there were some kinds of tension stretched over the whole seaside settlement. A sense of dread. A sense of something bad had happened in there. Had the Arcadia changed their mind and decided to convince people of Far Harbor by force? Or had the Children of Atom finally had enough and attacked them earlier? Biting her lower lip, she quickened her step. Nick caught up effortlessly beside her. He did not make any comment this time. Knowing him, she hazarded perhaps he had sensed something odd, too.

They were almost near the gate when a gunshot was heard. Cursing, Riley searched and dived to the nearest cover. Peering over the open gate, she saw a dead Harborwoman on the ground in front of Allen Lee's shop. A pool of blood was slowly seeping out of the woman's head. Her fear heightened ten folds, as well as her confusion.

"...Need to move closer." She murmured to herself and reached for her bag. After a bit of rummaging, she pulled out one of her Stealth Boy boxes-Railroad grade. She turned the switch and activated the device, waiting a moment for the machine to work, before moving out of her hiding spot and edged forward.

Her experience taught her this better version of normal Stealth Boy only lasted her 40 seconds. So she needed to move fast. Captain Avery's office seemed a ideal place to observe everything. Making her way to the back of the office and up the stairs, she was able to allow herself to remain hidden while observing what was going on at the Far Harbor common-the little hubbub area before the large Mirelurk boiler. It did not take long for her to realise she wasn't the only one there. There were several others on the vintage spot, including Mariner and Allen Lee's sister. The younger woman was shivering, completely losing her usual coldness Riley associating her with. There were also grazing wounds on her upper arm. As her body was still cloaking under the disguise of device, none of them noticed her. Instead all of their attention was focusing on downstairs. Frowning, she returned her attention back to the same direction. And almost at once, she noticed the core of the commotion. Or cause of all the tension.

A man, in black leather coat, stood by Brooks' shop, his pistol pointed at the shopkeeper. Wafer of smokes was still drifting out of the barrel. Odd, for Brook, a Synth to her knowledge, was still standing behind the counter. She concluded within a few seconds who this stranger just killed and true identity of this person.

Courser.

It wasn't the first time she had met one. She had met them countless times so far. One she saw in Kellog's memory, one she deactivated in the Raiders infested tower, one who totally turned and helped the Synth, and one she killed for that very Courser. She had dealt with enough of them to know they were the best lot of the Gen 3 Synth and fully capable of killing the entire city just to get what they were sent to the Wasteland to do-to extract an escape Synth. She highly doubted he was sent here to fetch Brook, since he had been here for considering amount of time and Arcadia perhaps had done something to prevent that. So what was this one doing here, then?

"Where is he?" The Courser's deep voice echoed through the quiet town. It confirmed he was here for a Synth. Yet it did not really narrow down the field much. No matter who he was here for, Riley did not think it would be wise to let him continue.

She had the advantage. She was still in her stealth mode, so she did not think anyone had noticed her yet. Also she was wielding a rather powerful Harpoon Gun. Aside from the Fat Man, which she was carrying on her back right at this very moment, it was the most powerful weapon she had managed to acquire to date. And she got it on this very island. It was very deadly and very precise. Unlike the Mini Nuke, it caused damage only on the target and not everything and everybody else around them. All she needed was a small second and one clear shot. What was better to do it here, on the Hull and above everything else, before her Railroad Stealth Boy lost its effectiveness? Licking her lips, she edged closer to the handrail and slowly pulled out her weapon.

The Courser did not move into her scope straight away. For a brief few minutes, she held her breath and was rather concerning if she was able to pull this off before her cover blown off. She was just wondered if she should move when the man below shifted.

And right into her scope.

"Yes." She whispered under her breath and fired. The harpoon flew out of her gun and shot straight toward the Elite Synth. One sickening sound of _crack_ later, it hit the man's neck right through.

Her shot obviously caught him by surprise. He swung a little, one hand cover the exposing part of the harpoon where the sharp end came out, while his gaze scanning around to find the source of the sudden attack. His mouth gaped open, as if trying to protest something but nothing came out. He staggered for a bit before losing balance and tripped over a stool nearby. Others seized this chance to take over the charge. Several more shots fired and a couple of brave townsfolks leaped out and physically attack the Courser. It was ended within a few seconds after Riley's physical form appeared on the top of the Hull again.

The Mariner and the others gasped in surprised at her sudden appearance, though their attention were mostly on the now very dead strange visitor below. James and Brook were the closest to the body. They slowly moved closer and bent down to inspect the individual that was terrorising the small town. Riley noticed the shopkeeper discreetly hided away something. She did not need to think too far to figure out what it was. It was the evidence their visitor was a Synth. This place had enough trouble already to add this one onto the pile.

More people emerged from their cover and slowly clustered around the dead man. Their expression half relief and half curious. In one short few hours, they learned there were all kinds of people from the Mainland. Some of them were as surprising as one garbed in full armor and helped them take back the Island bits by bits. Some of them were untrustworthy and only wanted the place burn. Slowly descended down the stairs, the blonde saw the scruffy Harborman straightened up and looked toward her direction. Then he walked to her.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded.

Then in the full view of everyone, he wrapped his arm around her armor as much as he could, giving her a hug.


End file.
